[url=https://fontmeme.com/signature-fonts/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/191117/dd16521e7d86f8ab6fc54285c3e7d99c.png[/img][/url] 2 PM, Wednesday. The middle of the day, the middle of the week, everything outside still grey and damp from the earlier rain. Kaz felt no need to go outside and look at the storm's aftermath. She could already imagine the reflections of neon drenched skyscrapers shining in the puddles, shimmering water collecting in gutters like so much oil. It had been the same in Washington, Moscow, Bogota, every major city she had lived or worked in. This brave new world was one of steel and glass, one where there was less space for cultural differences than ever before. There was no real difference between skylines, not anymore. She could remember when there had been. Places like Los Angeles and New York had always been sprawling metropolises but there had been enough subtle differences in layout and culture to differentiate the two. Now they shared the same structure and pollution, the same overly wealthy assholes and desperate poor separated by only a few blocks. Monuments to human misery, goblets of greed that were forever running over and staining wider society. Where they went so did everywhere else, and they were going straight to hell. [i][color=firebrick]Goddamnit.[/color][/i] She was doing it again, that thing where she'd become absorbed in self-righteous philosophizing. One of the side effects of her getting deep fried in its own chemicals was the tendency to engage in sanctimonious bullshit. Or more accurately, the emotionally damaged state she had been left in lent itself to misanthropic musing of the worst kind. It was important to nip those thoughts in the bud. Kaz might not have been able to be happy but she refused to sink to the level of the wannabe Nietzsches and nitwit nihilists of the world. 2:03 PM now, time to get out. Breakfast was a bite of the stale granola bar she found in her pocket as she slipped into the NSF and a cigarette that slid neatly into the corner of her mouth as she left her quarters. There was a scrape of rubber against linoleum as she moved towards the main hall, the great bear of a woman traveling at speed as she always did. There was a corner coming up and Kaz took it recklessly, rounding right into a poor staff member. With more than a foot of height and maybe a hundred pounds of weight differing between them it was little surprise that the secretary or analyst or whatever she was got knocked off of her feet with a yelp, scattering papers across the floor. The only admission of wrongdoing she got from Kaz was an apologetic grunt and a puff of smoke, the American moving on without even a word. She moved into the crush of people despite herself, forced to interact with other people in an attempt to feign normalcy. She would grit her teeth and bear the weight of socialization, let the sedatives in her system keep her from lashing out. She could do this. It was routine, normal, unimportant for anyone normal. The trick was to scan for anyone she knew was bearable, one of the few "friends" whose presence she could stand. And who did Kaz spy but Takai, back from his medical absence with shiny new limbs. He'd do. [color=firebrick]"Hello Takai, glad to see you moving around again."[/color] Her Japanese might have improved during his absence by her dead eyed stare was the same, punching right through her comrade even as she extended a hand for him to shake. Somethings could just never change. ----- [url=https://fontmeme.com/futuristic-fonts/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/191117/bde4c8a92c70e36622f058c1ecb583ff.png[/img][/url] Every part of Dàiyù's body hurt. Her muscles were sore from getting through a glass table, her head was pounding thanks to a combination of too many stimulants and not enough sleep. Hell even her metal arm was acting up, a phantom pain tricking her brain into thinking it had the old flesh and bone limb again. Side effects of her busy schedule the past few evenings no doubt. The ride from the slum apartment she had crashed in to the NSF's headquarters gave Dai time to recollect and refocus herself. The rumbling roar of the secondhand motorcycle beneath her was a pleasant backdrop for her thoughts, letting her lay out jumbled memories without having to focus too much on them. [i][color=Mediumseagreen]Let's see here...[/color][/i] What had she been up to last night? There was the banquet to raise money for some kind of good cause, the funds going to a charitable donation run by a Mr. Maeda. Mr. Maeda was of course not real and his organization was no more than a front but the guests that knew that wouldn't have cared. Lots of boring conversations with boring socialites made bearable by the subtle abuse of downers. After wiggling away from that charade she had gotten herself a bite to eat and switched outfits, swapping out the elegant dress and heels of Li Dàiyù for the battered mask and armor of the Fox. Everything from that point on was a little fuzzy, the particulars made hazy and high pitched by the amphetamines she had taken before getting started. There had been more paranoia than usual, a tense climb up to a fifth story window and then a simple matter of breaking into a safe. But she was pretty sure something had gone wrong sooner or later. The bike hit a bump in the road and Dai was forced to fight for control, kicking her heel against the curb to save herself from wiping out. Balance was restored and she was back on the road with hardly a dip in speed, no harm no foul. The jolt had even shaken the dregs of drug induced sleep from her head, reminding her of why her back still felt like shit. The loser she was stealing from had come home while she was busy reading through the documents she snatched out of his "hidden" safe and he had been none too pleased to see her. Did he know that she had been sent by the men he had been ripping off for months or did he just think she was an eccentric thief stumbling upon sensitive info. Probably the latter, he was just an associate that got ideas above his station not an actual gangster. Either way he had managed to put her through a glass table before she could get a hand around his throat. He died defiantly sure, but died nonetheless. Case closed, time to rush home for a few hours sleep before heading for the old day job. Which of course was where she was now, puling into her usual spot in the garage and grabbing her bag to change. A couple nods to the mechanics taking care of the force's vehicles and she was inside heading for the lockers. With her helmet and jacket stuffed away Dai was ready for work. Work was perhaps a strong word since there wasn't exactly an assignment for her to be doing but she had at least clocked in. For the time being she'd take up position at the range. It was a simple manner to sign in and get her gun, a no frills pistol that shot straight and didn't jam. There were no gimmicks or gadgets attached, it relied on her skill and her skill alone to function. How convenient then that she had skill in spades. The first two shots landed right on target, punching neat hole through the head of the paper bad guy she was shooting at. A third and fourth found their way into the chest. Shooting was second nature at this point, made easier by the advanced optics in her eyes. If she ever had to face someone who stood perfectly still and didn't shoot back she'd be more than ready. An actual combat situation would still be a crapshoot, no matter how much training or expensive had been crammed into her. [@LetMeDoStuff]